Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?
by lizziedarcys
Summary: REVISED FOR THE SECOND TIME. It's a Trory story a la Romeo and Juliet style. When you force a couple apart, you can guarantee they'll pull back towards one another...
1. Family Feuds

Hartford wasn't a small country town with a population of five thousand that depended on the variety of farms to provide food, jobs and an income for the population and where secrets were hidden under the friendly, laid back and warm exterior. It wasn't a place where people would rely on one another to get by in life, and it certainly wasn't a place where morals and honour were upheld. Instead, people would more often than not put their foes darkest secrets on show, letting them become humiliated in front of the _entire_ populace of the upper-class suburb, whispers, snickers and sly glances following them as they made their way through their day, every day as revenge for what they had done. It was a place where, if you earned less than $500,000 every three months _at least_, you were shunned and ostracised from society. It was a place where there were only backstabbers, and where power and money would get you anywhere and everywhere. Two families reigned supreme, and their word was law. It was most unfortunate that they were fighting a dying battle that had raged for thirty years.

"Nobody knows the _exact_ story. Rumours are, not even the people who are _involved_ really know what happened. They're just fighting for fighting's sake," a blonde haired teenage girl told her best friend, chocolate brown eyes wide in awe. "So many people have embroidered the story, that nobody knows what's true anymore." Her friend looked at her.  
"Well? What happened? Why do _you_ think that this stupid feud is going on and 'dividing our society in two'?" she asked, quoting some ridiculous gossip columnist.

"Well…" the girl said slowly. "I _suppose_ I can tell you what mum and dad _think _happened, but it doesn't necessarily mean that it's true."

"Well, duh, Sherlock. I do take history, you know. I've learnt that not everything is true just because somebody says it is." The girl, Natalie, paused. "Well, that, and we've grown up in the age of the Internet." The first girl, Danielle, laughed.

"You'll make a great magazine writer one day. In the meantime, maybe you can use the story for your history essay!" she joked. Natalie glanced at her.  
"Please don't make jokes!" she begged. "Just stick to telling stories." Danielle mock sighed.  
"OK, well, according to my parents, the story goes a little something like this…"

'_Well. Richard Gilmore and Janlan DuGrey were, apparently and surprisingly, best friends once upon a time. Their mothers would drink gin and tonics together, and their fathers scotch or whiskey, and they would play cards or pool or just get together and talk about their day to day lives, so it seemed kind of inevitable that they would turn out to be best friends. They met while they were still in diapers, and would have little baby spats over dummies, blocks, and whatever else it is that baby boys like to play with. So anyway, they ended up going to Chilton together and then to Princeton together. During their years at Chilton, a third member of their group came along, a girl called Michelle Horner. They adored her, and treated her like a little sister. I guess it would get pretty tiring of having two guys being so over protective of you all the time, but apparently she handled it pretty well, and usually thought it was kind of funny when they would pull the Big Brother- meets- The Godfather act with all of her boyfriends. According to my mum, who was a pretty close friend of Michelle's, Michelle was pretty easy going and loved it when the two of them goofed off, although I bet nobody can imagine them doing something so… laid back. Of course, there's all these stories of them going around at Princeton wearing nothing but ties for a month, so then again, I suppose you can…'  
_

'_Anyway. On the night of their graduation, they were all excited, understandably. Janlan's parents agreed to let him have a graduation party at their place afterwards. And of course, he had to invite the whole entire graduating year, plus a few extras, because it was a feat he knew that would be impossible for Richard to beat. Of course, you can't have a party without alcohol, so he had like, a heap of kegs, and some wine and champagne, and vodka, and pretty much anything else he could find that had alcohol in it, and everybody went on a drinking spree and got smashed. They also had to drive home, and not many of them got home safe. They were either involved in car accidents, or pulled over by the cops and spent a night in a cold prison cell. No matter what way you dice it, it's still a pretty dismal end to your 'great night.' So anyway, the end of the party comes, and Michelle and Richard are still there, car less, of course, but their parents want them home so they can celebrate, 'cause for some strange reason, the party apparently finished at something like nine thirty or ten, which is pretty early. But then I suppose it's graduation, so people want to go and celebrate with their families. So Janlan agrees to take the two of them home, despite being so drunk he can't tell the difference between a wardrobe and a toilet. Apparently he peed all over his mother's clothes, mistaking her wardrobe for his bathroom. So they get into his car, this big, huge Humvee that likes using lots and lots of petrol, and they begin to drive home. Only, on the way home, a dog runs across the road and Janlan's forced to brake suddenly, and he skids and goes sliding head first into a tree. Michelle ended up on life support in hospital for days, and she almost became paralysed. When she woke up, she wanted nothing more to do with them. One mistake had nearly cost her her life, and she wasn't going to risk pulling any more mistakes.'_

'Janlan and Richard were gutted by it. They both had really loved her, and argued with her for ages. 'You shouldn't keep us from being in your life, you're our best friend!' and 'People make mistakes, but we should all be able to move on and forgive them,' stuff like that. But she refused to talk to them anymore. So they began quarrelling with one another – 'You shouldn't have let me drive drunk!' 'You shouldn't have been drinking in the first place, you knew you had to take us home!' yadda yadda yadda. They couldn't agree on anything anymore. And both blamed the other for what had happened, so both couldn't stand to be around one another anymore. They swore they would never be friends again.'

"So that's why there's this big feud now?" Natalie asked Danielle. Danielle nodded in reply. "Wow. That's so…"  
"Stupid?" Danielle replied.  
"Romantic," Natalie said, ignoring her.  
"That's not all," Danielle continued. "They forbade their families from having any contact with the other, they were that angry. Only now, Richard's granddaughter is

being sent to the school where Janlan's grandson goes, so this should be very interesting. Especially as neither realises or knows it. And because the grandchildren have never met before, they will never even know they're fraternising with the enemy. Until it's too late."   
"Who says they'll become friends?" Natalie asks.  
"It's like a modern romance story, a la Romeo and Juliet style. They won't just become friends; they'll fall in love. I can guarantee it." Natalie looked at Danielle.  
"OK. You're on."


	2. Rory Gilmore, Stars Hollow's Juliet

**Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?**

**Disclaimer: **I unfortunately do not own _Gilmore Girls_.

_**Author's Notes: **_

_Reviews: _Thank you, to everybody that reviewed the story…and to all those who liked the old version, I might re-post it…_MIGHT_! Although, under a different name and not the same plot outline, obviously.

And a big thanks and round of applause to my Beta, LoVe23 ) This story about a million times better coz of her!

**Chapter Two: Rory Gilmore, Stars Hollow's Juliet**

RoryGilmore's eyes snapped open the moment sunlight began to stream through the bedroom window, which she had left open, as it had been so hot last night. She sat up in bed and turned to see 5:25am in big glowing red numbers on her alarm clock. 'Still early.' she thought. She lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't. She sighed as she got up to walk around her room. As she passed her desk, she absentmindedly picked up her worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. She knew why she couldn't sleep- it was nerves. She was nervous about starting the new school year at Chilton. 'Chilton,' she thought as she sat back down on her bed and began to flip through her book. 'One of the most prestigious schools in Connecticut.' She then looked over at the new uniform hanging in her closet, when suddenly the nerves seemed to get about a million times worse. 'I _really_ need to stop doing this to myself,' Rory reflected as she dragged herself out of bed and began to get ready for school.

"Mornin', sunshine! Ready for a new year, at a new school?" Lorelei teased as Rory walked into the kitchen. Rory instantly knew that Lorelei had seen her worried expression and was trying to lighten the mood. She rolled her eyes, careful to remove any traces of worry from her face. She pulled out a chair, sat down, picked up Lorelei's coffee cup and took a sip…immediately spitting it out.

"Mom, you _really_ spit need to learn yech how to make spit good coffee!" she sputtered as she wiped her mouth and tongue with a napkin, trying to rid her mouth of the awful taste. "I don't know _how_ you can drink this stuff! It tastes like…like…" Rory trailed off as she tried to come up with a word that could describe how bad Lorelei's coffee-making skills were without actually offending her.

Lorelei raised an eyebrow, giving a Rory a look that clearly said, 'Oh _really'_. "Okay, coffee-making expert, show me how it's done, then," Lorelei challenged, lifting her chin up in defiance and crossing her arms across her chest.

Rory stared blankly at her mother for a few seconds. Then a smile slowly spread across her face. "You're on. Give me five minutes, and then I'll show you," Rory replied, returning to her bedroom. Exactly five minutes later, she returned to the kitchen, schoolbag in hand. "Come along, hopeless coffee-maker. I am going to show you how to get good coffee, just like you asked."

"Damn, it's crowded again," Lorelei said, following Rory as they entered Luke's diner. "We really need to do something about it." Rory nodded her head.

"I agree. Do you think people would believe Luke's had termites?" Rory asked her mother, as they made their way towards the counter.

"I prefer spreading a rumor about Luke's having a massive flood," Lorelei replied. "Much more interesting." She leant against the counter, picking up a menu, even though she knew what she was going to order. "Maybe we should tell them that Luke's has termites that caused a massive flood," Rory said, frowning at her own suggestion. "That _would_ scare them away," Lorelei agreed, not looking up from the menu. "Or just confuse them away."

"Now we have that all figured out," Lorelei said, "Let's find Luke."

"There's no need," said a voice from behind them. "I'm right behind you." Rory turned and looked at Luke for a moment. "You've had another fight." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Luke just nodded. "What are you two doing here so early, anyway?" he asked, quickly changing the topic. "Celebrating Rory's first day of at Chilton," Lorelei told him. While at the same time Rory said "Teaching Mom how to make good coffee."

"Riiiii-ight," Luke said, looking back and forth between the elder and younger Gilmores. "Well… I suppose, since it _is_ Rory's first day at Chilton, you guys can have breakfast on the house," he said. Then turning to Rory, "And I refuse to let Lorelei ruin my reputation due to her inability to make good coffee, since she'll probably never learn anyway," he finished. "I'm just going to have a Danish and some coffee, I don't want to miss my bus," Rory said. Before the words had even finished coming out of her mouth, Luke had placed a large paper cup of fresh coffee and a blueberry Danish wrapped in a napkin in front of her. "Thanks, Luke," she said. "Bye, Mom!" Rory raced out of the diner to the bus stop, thinking she had heard the words "Have fun!" escape from her mother's lips, but not quite sure.

Rory entered her History classroom, looking around, feeling slightly self-conscious. "Is this seat taken?" she asked a tall, blonde girl who was in the middle of an argument with a brunette. She turned and looked at Rory. "No. So, if you're asking if you can _sit_ here, I guess the answer is yes. I'm Paris, by the way, and this is Louise and Madeline," she said, indicating the two girls next to her. "I'm Rory Gilmore," she replied, taking the hand Paris had extended and shook it, while Madeline and Louise said "A _Gilmore_…" in unison. She frowned, and slid into the chair, just as Tristan walked into the room. "It's so nice of you to fit us into your busy schedule, Mr. DuGrey," the teacher said as he entered. "Oh, _no problem_," he replied walking towards the back of the classroom. As he continued down the aisle he stared at a girl in the back corner.

As soon as he walked in, Rory looked up and watched him as he walked to his desk. She noticed him staring at something, and automatically glanced in the same direction…not noticing that Louise followed her gaze.

A few seconds later, Rory saw a note on her desk. She soon found out it was from Louise. It read…

That's Sienna Pierce, Tristan's current Object of Affection. She's actually got a boyfriend already, not that Tristan cares about that….

Somewhat confused, Rory stared down at the note, eyebrows furrowed, then looked up at Louise, who was now facing the front, paying attention it seemed to the teacher as he called out attendance. She looked down at the note again and began thinking 'Why did Louise send this note?' It's not like she cared about that guy… Tristan…or what he did, did she? She shook her head trying to clear it of all thought as she heard the teacher begin to lecture. Being her first day and all, it wouldn't do to be distracted. She put away the note, quickly opened her notebook, and began taking notes. Every once in awhile however, she would glance out of the corner of her eye, at Tristan then at Louise, thinking of what the note meant, and remembering from earlier, why Madeline and Louise had reacted to her last name the way they did. These thoughts however, soon became forgotten in the back of her mind as she became engrossed in the teachers lecture. First day of school…not as bad as she thought. What she seemed to forget was that it was only first period…

**I'm trying to keep this story as close to the original as possible, but obviously, there will be no murdering of anybody, and no, Tristan and Rory will not be getting married. Please review and tell me what you think! **

_**Kim**_


	3. Tristan DuGrey, Hartford's Romeo

**Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except for the laptop I'm writing this story on. Oh, wait. It was a birthday present from my parents. Okay, I own nothing.

Author's Notes: 

I know Finn, Colin and Logan don't crop up until the later seasons of Gilmore Girls, but I've read stories with them in it, and I liked them, so I decided to put them in. And I don't have anything against blondes, either; I used to be one when I was very, very, very little. Now my hair is almost black in colour, and you wouldn't even think I was blonde once upon a time…

Once again, thanks to my Beta, **LoVe23**! Big round of applause!

**Chapter Three: Tristan DuGrey, Hartford's Romeo**

Tristan DuGrey, King of Chilton, sat at the popular table with the usual crowd. The Queen of Chilton, Summer Roberts, sat beside him, eating her salad brought from home (according to her the salad the cafeteria offered was absolutely _disgusting_), and laughing at something the blonde bimbo from the cheerleading squad, sitting next to her said. Since they were the "crowned royalty" of Chilton, they were expected to date. Tristan knew that Summer had a crush on Logan Huntzberger, and she knew that he had fallen for Sienna Pierce. However, being who they were, and how they were brought up, appearances had to be maintained. Their names and along with that, their family's honor, were at stake. Suddenly, Finn Morgan appeared out of nowhere by Tristan's side, breathless and with a devilish grin on his face.

"Tristan," he began as he tried to catch his breath. "I have some information. _Important information…" _he stressed as he continued. "…that you would find _very _interesting." he finished looking intently at his friend, with an eyebrow raised. Finn knew how to grab Tristan's attention, which was not a feat easily done when it came to him. So far, Finn was the only one to ever successfully do so. Tristan frowned slightly to appear annoyed at the interruption, but inside, he was definitely intrigued. He pushed himself off the table, and motioned for Finn to lead the way. He slowly followed behind as their so-called friends looked on with interest.

"What is it?" Tristan demanded, as soon as they had reached an empty hallway. Feelings of curiosity and impatience had welled up inside him.

"Well," Finn said slowly, watching him, making sure Tristan was hanging on to his every word – Tristan had a tendency to kind of… drift off halfway through talks. "The first thing you should know is that it concerns Sienna Pierce." Excitement was now added to the mix of emotions churning inside him. '_Maybe she's broken up with that loser of a boyfriend of hers_,' he thought. "The second thing you need to know is that it involves her moving to France. And the third thing you should know is that you shouldn't worry, because Emily and Richard Gilmore are holding a party this weekend because their granddaughter, Rory Gilmore, has just started at Chilton." Finn smiled triumphantly at this last bit of information and then added, "We can find you a new victim."

Tristan felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. Okay, so maybe that was a _slight _exaggeration, but just a little one. He felt disappointment when he heard the words '_moving to France'._ "They're not victims, Finn," he snapped annoyed at the last comment Finn made, while thinking: '_It was only a crush, DuGrey_.' Finn just snorted in response.

"And I'm the bloody Queen of England. Please" he said with feigned disgust. "Even though you're dating the Queen of Chilton, Summer Roberts, you have girls on the side. A new one every week, I might add. Then when you can't have them, it only makes you want them more." Tristan rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to return to the cafeteria, knowing where this conversation would lead.

"By the way, mate, Roberts is planning on dumping you… Huntzberger asked her out," Finn yelled at Tristan's retreating back.

"Thanks for the heads up, Finn," Tristan replied, his footsteps echoing around the empty halls. Even though he irritated him most of the time, Finn was one of the few people he could truly trust. He was never afraid to tell Tristan the truth about what he thought of him or the things he did. Most of the people around him fawned all over him just to gain status. Finn was someone he truly called a friend.

"Hey, sweetie, what was so interesting that Finn had to drag you away from me?" Summer cooed when Tristan returned, a fake smile plastered on her face. Tristan looked at her with slight annoyance. He decided to save her the hassle and him the embarrassment.

"It's over, Summer," he told her shortly, not answering her question. Summer opened her mouth furiously. How _dare_ he dump her, the Queen of Chilton! He was amused by her reaction. "I know Huntzberger asked you out, so I thought I'd save you the trouble." He gave her a smirk, cocking his head to the side watching her sputtering with rage, before turning his back on her and walking over to talk to his friend, Colin. Summer scowled. '_Finn Morgan is going down_,' she thought furiously.


	4. Eventful Celebrations

**Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Gilmore Girls_

Chapter Four: Eventful Celebrations 

"Home sweet home. I spent sixteen of the most traumatic years of my life in this house, and the images of emotional distress repeat on me every time we are invited over for dinner. Sitting at the table… watching my mother argue with the maid… and my father… and the cook… and pretty much everybody else in this household." As the car rolled to a stop outside the imposing Gilmore mansion, Lorelei's babble followed suit. Luke, armed with a tray full of take away coffee simply glanced at her and rolled his eyes, while Rory leant between the two front seats and took a paper cup from the cardboard tray.  
"Thanks for the coffee, Luke. And I'm so glad we had a nice little chat on your emotional abuse over the past thirty-two years, Mum, but we really have to go," she added, pulling open the car door and then slamming it closed behind her. Lorelei jumped out of the car with her usual vigour, and began to follow Rory up the driveway.  
"Rory, before we go in, can I just tell you how proud I am of you?" Lorelei's voice, gently teasing, filled the cold night air. Rory turned around, slightly suspicious.  
"Why?" she asked, dragging out the word.  
"What have I told you about speaking in nice, full sentences?" Lorelei scolded, momentarily forgetting her joke. "Oh, yes. Mother's pride. Well. You're finally growing up. You're having a party with alcohol."  
"What? I never knew anything about alcohol. Especially alcohol at a sixteen-year-olds' 'Welcome to your new school' party!"  
"It's a party. In Hartford. With lots of high school aged children running around the place. They're bound to either a) break into your grandparents' liquor cupboard, b) bring their own, c) get it off me, who will be praying to God they don't end up driving home drunk, or d) a combination of all of the above," Lorelei advised her wisely, beginning the trek up to the front door as if the conversation was over.  
"But. Grandma and Grandpa are going to find out if any of this happens," Rory began to protest.  
"Oh, no, no," Lorelei said, her voice sounding slightly evil, and more than a little distracted. "They're going to be busy fussing that everything at this over-priced little function at their b-e-a-utiful home goes exactly to plan. And, if that fails, there's always going to be that little decoy that I planted, with the help of some of your incredibly obliging friends," she added on a little vaguely. Rory's eyes narrowed.  
"What did Madeline and Louise do?" she asked, as the new maid for this week opened the door, motioning for them to come inside and take off their coats. Lorelei looked at Rory and Luke innocently.  
"Who said that Madeline and Louise had _anything_ to do with this wonderful plan of mine?" she asked, waltzing indoors.  
_Fantastic. My mother's on a power trip, and my grandparents are going to go into cardiac arrest when they see how good her 'supervising' talents are. This is going to be one extremely horrifying and torturous night…_

The music was loud, there was alcohol discreetly being passed around the room between the large quantity of Chilton students crammed into the large dining room that was slowly being pushed out onto the patio and into the back lawn, and every so often couples would head off to a closet or into a bedroom for some 'private time.' No matter what way you looked at it, this party was definitely not what Richard and Emily Gilmore had had in mind. _Their _definition of party was more along the lines of 'a quiet gathering of friends' – which was what they had told their daughter, but this clearly proved how well she listened to them – and as they watched the abundance of teenagers act wildly and others laugh at their antics, both were wondering how they had been convinced that a 'Welcome to Chilton' party for Rory should be held in the grand Gilmore manor.  
_Oh, yes, that's right, Lorelei posses some _fantastic_ negotiating skills. I suppose she got them from her father, _Richard thought a little hazily, his mood becoming more jovial as he began to pay more and more attention to his scotch as he watched his house slowly began destructed by a group of rambunctious sixteen year olds. Emily was still scanning the crowds, when she noticed a boy with sandy blonde hair surrounded by a rather large crowd of people.  
_What is _he_ doing here? I thought Richard had made it very clear to the Du Greys that we wanted nothing to do with them! Of course, I suppose it just 'slipped' Lorelei's mind, and she decided not to tell Rory about the whole family feud. Or, more like Lorelei, she told Rory's friends to invite him, just to rile Richard and I up!_  
"Richard," she began furiously and indignantly, "I _believe_ we have an unwanted guest!" She struggled to hear _herself_ think over the music, which would have _had_ to be set onto fifteen, at the very _least_, so there was no way she was able to hear Richard's answer. She leant in close and squinted, concentrating on lip reading her husband's reply.

"Who?" Richard asked, in clear confusion.  
"That DuGrey boy!" Emily snapped, pointing heatedly at where he was still standing, talking animatedly to the whole crowd and making them laugh. Richard shrugged a little tiredly.  
"Oh, Emily, not tonight, please. I'm sure he's a nice boy, he wouldn't cause any trouble. And besides, he has a nice entourage to keep him in line." He turned away and began to make his way to the study, hoping for a little peace and quiet – at last. But as Emily watched his retreating back, the stubborn side of her personality kicked in.  
_You just wait and see, Richard. And then you will learn how very wrong you are. Very wrong, indeed!_

Rory stood somewhere between where the hidden table usually stood, and where the French doors opened, letting some cool air into the crowded room, wedged in between Paris and Louise. She turned to the third member of their triumvirate – 'their' referring to Paris and Louise, obviously – as she bounded up to them, a plastic glass filled with Coke – and mixed with some kind of alcohol, judging by the smell- in hand.  
"Madeline, can you _please_ tell me who all these people are? I think when my grandparents defined 'party' the meant 'a small gathering of friends.' And this isn't small, nor are these people my friends." Madeline shrugged airily, waving her hands around, which forced Rory, Paris and Louise to duck and escape being drenched in the ebbing Coke.  
"Oh, these people are just some kids from school," she mumbled flippantly. "You'll get to know them – eventually."  
"Not if my grandmother gets to me first! The only way they're ever going to see me again is to dig me up from my unmarked grave in the backyard. And that's if you ever find me," she added, waving a hand to indicate the seemingly vast backyard behind them. Madeline sighed, and rolled her eyes, causing Rory's face to crumple, and Madeline's feeling of impatience was replaced by one of extreme guilt.  
"Don't pout like that, Rory, word probably just got around the school. I was helping your mother organise the party, so I'm really not sure how it happened…" Madeline's voice trailed off as she searched the throng for the one distraction that was entirely her responsibility.  
_Madeline helped my mother plan the party? That translates to 'I decided to interfere with your life and help your mother do things that your grandparents really wouldn't appreciate,' _Rory thought sourly, watching as Louise followed Madeline's gaze. When Louise let out a small squeal of delight when she realised what Madeline had done, and Rory quickly caught on, staring at them in dismay and horror.  
"Madeline, please tell me you didn't," she begged, praying that her conclusions were wrong. Louise turned back to Rory and looked at her sweetly.  
"Do what, Rory?" she asked, her voice sweet.  
"Invite _him_ to the party."  
"Oh, Rory, you really need to stop jumping to conclusions all the time," Madeline interjected, a fake smile plastered on her face.  
"I didn't jump to conclusions! I took a tiny step, and the conclusions were there!"

"Rory, you really need to loosen up a little bit," Paris said, finally entering the conversation. Rory turned around, arms folded, eyebrows raised.  
"And this is coming from you, who has to be _the_ most relaxed teenager in the northern hemisphere!" Rory exclaimed sarcastically. Paris scowled, and vanished into the crowd. Rory swung back around and glared at the remaining two.  
"I don't care what you two do anymore," she said finally, and headed off in the opposite direction to Paris. "And in the meantime," she muttered under her breath, "I am going to find my mother. My loving, caring, sharing, incredibly _dead_ mother."

"This was a really bad idea, Finn," Tristan said, before lifting a can of soft drink to his lips. "Why couldn't you have just left me at home, instead of taking me to some crazy birthday party?" he demanded, leaning against the banister across the second floor, looking down into the crowd of psychopathic, uninhibited, familiar, _drunk_ faces.  
"And leave you by yourself, brooding about the love of your life being sent to France for a year and, in all likelihood, being swept off her feet by some captivating, extraordinary Frenchman who is like no other person she had ever met before, while you are left back here, in this Godforsaken country – for any country without Sienna is definitely Godforsaken- wallowing in your pain and sorrow and never getting over your heart break?" Finn asked. "Speaking of Godforsaken, America has to be troubled 'cause their beer tastes like shit," he said, shaking his head in disgust at the brown bottle in his hand. "You want good beer, go to Australia. They'll show you how it's done."  
"Then why are you drinking it, if it tastes so bad?" Tristan asked, slightly confused.  
"Because I'm hoping the more I drink, the less shitty it will taste. Apparently, this is not the case. It just gets worse. A couple more drinks and I should be completely wasted, and I won't have a _clue_ what I'm drinking."  
"A couple meaning, ten?"  
"Exactly." Tristan shook his head, taking a few minutes to scan the crowd for a second or third time that night. He watched in amusement at the drunken disarray below. An unfamiliar face caught his eye. Blue eyes set in a porcelain white face, like a china doll's, framed by long, straight brown hair. He watched for a few moments as she made her way through the crowd, sometimes stopping to talk to people, heading off towards what Tristan assumed was the kitchen.  
"Oh, look, there's the girl the party's for," Finn commented vaguely, waving a hand over in the direction of the girl.  
"What's her name?" Tristan asked, becoming interested in the conversation, while noting that Finn was getting incredibly drunk, having given up on the beer and moved on to stronger stuff, like tequila and vodka.  
"Uhm…" Finn's faced scrunched up as he attempted to remember the name of the tall brunette making her way around the room. "Rory," he said finally.  
"Rory…" Tristan's voice trailed off, indicating the expectation of a last name.  
"I can't remember her last name. Something starting with a 'G.' Like from an Adam Sandler movie. You know, the golfing one?" Finn finished brightly.  
"You mean, Gilmore?" Tristan said.  
"That's it!" Finn cried triumphantly and nearly tipped over in his drunken excitement. "Gilmore!" He swung the tequila bottle around by its' neck, before turning around and beginning to talk to some people standing behind him.   
"Hey, Finn, I'm going to go… for a walk," Tristan finished lamely.  
"Huh?" Finn asked. Tristan figured that Finn was getting to a stage where he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a wardrobe and a toilet, so he needn't worry that Finn would notice if he disappeared for a few minutes, so he began to make his way down the staircase.

"Hi," he said when he had finally reached her, slightly out of breath. Rory turned around and faced him, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. She waited for a few moments for him to continue, before realising he was waiting for her to speak.  
"Hi," she responded, while making furious 'come over here,' gestures to somebody over his shoulder. Tristan suddenly realised that he had no idea what he was planning on saying to her.  
"Uhm. So, do you… live here?" he asked her, cringing at his question.  
"No…" Rory replied. "This is my grandparents' house. I live about half an hour away, in Star's Hollow. I think my mum wanted to be as far away as possible from her parents. They don't get along very well." Tristan burst out laughing at her statement, and Rory allowed herself to give an embarrassed grin.  
"I'm Rory," she said, holding out a hand.  
"Tristan," he replied. Rory's eyes suddenly widened in shock.  
"DuGrey?"  
"The one and only."  
"I really don't think that I should be talking to you…"

"Well, why not?" he inquired.  
"Grandparents… don't get on very well… my grandmother especially would be furious if she found out." Tristan shrugged.  
"She doesn't have to know."  
"She's up there, watching my every move!" Rory cried, jabbing a finger in the direction of the second floor. "She's paranoid about who I hang out with."  
"Ah." Tristan said. "Come along, then," he said, taking her hand and leading her away from the crowded area.

"Lorelei!" Emily called, stalking along the second floor. "Have you seen Rory? She disappeared a few moments ago with some friends of hers, and I need to tell her something!" Lorelei rolled her eyes as she turned around to face her mother.  
"Can you relax for more than five seconds? Drink some alcohol, à la Richard Gilmore style," she suggested. "This is a party for _Rory_. She is _supposed_ to be having _fun_."  
"Humph. I can hardly call this kind of celebration fun," Emily muttered. "I'm going to go find your father. Perhaps he will help me look for Rory." She disappeared into the crowd of teenagers, Lorelei letting out a sigh of relief at her retreating back.

"Hi," Rory said, coming up behind Louise, Madeline, and Paris, who had rejoined them in the half an hour or so she had been gone.  
"Oh, there you are," Madeline said vaguely. "We were looking for you, but _somebody_ said you had gone off with Tristan." Rory arranged her face into what she hoped was an innocent look.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she said flippantly, beginning to walk off again. She was stopped short, however, when Louise grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  
"I think you do. Details, please," she ordered, as Rory flushed a deep red.  
"We… talked," she mumbled a few seconds later. Madeline and Louise looked at each other in delight.  
"_He kissed _you!" they crowed happily.


	5. Ignoring Tristan DuGrey

**Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?**

Disclaimer: I do not, have not, and will not own _Gilmore Girls._ The only thing I will ever own is the large stack of assignments on my family computer desk. It's so tragic. I am poor.

**A/N: **Eeep. Am I going to be crucified? I can't believe I haven't updated since New Year's Day. Or so my sources tell me.

Chapter Five: Ignoring Tristan DuGrey

Rory's locker closed with a resounding _slam_ that rang throughout the halls. Tristan DuGrey was so _infuriating_. She had never in her life, met somebody who was as cocky, self-centred and stuck up as he was. He was acting like he _owned_ her after kissing her at that stupid party. Every time she convinced herself that she was perfectly fine with what he did, Madeline and Louise showed up and started talking to her about it. If there was one thing she hated, that was being the center of attention. So she was perfectly fine with hating him.

"_Hello_, Mary." Speak of the devil, there was Mr Stuck-Up-Beyond-Belief himself.

"_Goodbye_, Tristan." Rory replied, turning on her heel and heading up the hallway towards her English class.

"Should I feel touched that you're actually taking time out of your busy schedule to speak to me?" Tristan inquired, feeling slightly irritated by her.

"Should I feel touched that you're taking time to talk to me at all? Or should I feel more like I do now, which is throwing up every time you get within three feet of me?" Rory retorted in a sickeningly sweet voice. She was pleased to hear Tristan let out a frustrated snort.

"You are _impossible_, y'know that? I try to talk to you, and I get treated like I'm a piece of dog crap." He exclaimed, clearly flustered.

"Maybe that's because that's how you treat everybody else!" Rory said quietly, stopping in the middle of the hall, and turning to face him. "I've seen how you treat everybody, Tristan. You think that just because your father's rich, you can treat people however you want to. Life doesn't work like that. A relationship doesn't work like that. I, for one, can't stand people who are like that." She studied his face for a moment, watching the look of surprise flutter across his face for a moment or two, before finally nodding at her.

"You're right. I'm not a nice person. But I like the way I am, and I'm not changing for somebody like _you_." He said with a sneer. He knew this comment would annoy Rory more than anything, and he watched in slight amusement as a cold expression crossed her face. _You have a really twisted sense of humour. _He thought as he watched her turn away from him, storming through the busy crowds of Chilton.

Rory slammed her books down on the desk beside Paris, feeling a slight sense of satisfaction as Paris jumped and then got annoyed from being disturbed. _Good! _Rory thought. _If I'm going to be a complete grump, then I may as well have everybody being annoyed along with me. _

"What did he do this time?" Paris sighed as Rory kicked out her chair and dropped into her seat with a loud thump. It was obvious to Paris that she had another encounter with Tristan.

"_Excuse me_?" Rory said, clearly annoyed.

"What did he do this time?" Paris repeated, this time more slowly in a patronizing tone of voice.

"What did _who_ do?" Rory asked, trying to play dumb, clearly trying to rile Paris up. Paris tried not to roll her eyes at Rory, but it was pretty hard not to.

"Tristan. You've been whining about him ever since that party your grandparents held for you. I know it must be tough, being kissed by the guy that most girls would kill their mother for to just _talk_ to him." Paris rambled.

"He exists, that's what he did this time." Rory pouted.

"You don't like him very much, do you?" Paris asked, mildly amused by Rory's antics.

"That's putting it mildly." Rory huffed.

"Rory?" Paris asked seriously.

"Yes?" Rory asked, the anger slowly seeping out of her.

"Stop being an idiot. You aren't annoyed with him for kissing you…" Rory cut her off before she could finish.

"Yes, I _am_!" Rory protested, cutting Paris off. "He thinks that…" It was Paris' turn to interrupt by holding up her hand.

This time, Paris couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "You're annoyed with him because he just happens to like you, and what annoys you the most is that you like him too." Paris said giving her a knowing look. Rory's eyes narrowed.

"I do _not_ like that stuck-up, two-faced, shallow, self-centred _pig_ otherwise known as Tristan DuGrey!" Rory snapped. Paris just stared at her.

"_What? _Well, I _don't_!" Rory said, petulantly, looking away. After a few seconds, she sneaked a peek at Paris again, and the two of them burst out laughing.

Three classes, and a ride back to Stars Hollow from Paris later, Rory arrived home to the complete silence of her home. She figured that her mum was still at work and her grandparents were on their flight to…

_Where _were_ they going this time?_ Rory mused, as she made a fresh pot of coffee. _Italy? France? England? Australia? _She picked up a clean cup from the dish rack and filled it up with coffee, pondering where her grandparents had left on their latest holiday. She finally gave up and shrugged, figuring she'd find out when they got back. She let her mind wander to the conversation between her and Paris during English. _Well, it's true. I don't like him. He has to be one of the most annoying people that ever walked this earth. _She sighed, and slammed her head against the kitchen table. _Who am I kidding? I really do like him…_


	6. Insomniac

Disclaimer: See previous chapters. They explain everything.

A/N: I've only learnt by the metric system, so putting the measurements into cups and tablespoons was the easiest thing I could do (partly because I don't actually have a clue what system you guys use in America).

* * *

Insomniac

Rory kicked the thick duvet off, hoping that letting some cool air circulate around her would make her feel a bit better. To her disappointment, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach was still there, lurching whenever she thought of the previous afternoon's conversation with Paris. She pushed the heavy woollen blanket and sheet off her as well, before pulling on her slippers and padding out to the kitchen to get a cool glass of water. She sculled it gratefully, and poured herself another glass. Rory sighed, and rubbed her eyes, heading over towards the huge pantry. After rummaging through the shelves for a few minutes, she found exactly what she was looking for.  
"Instant mac and cheese," Rory whispered to herself. "When all else fails to get you to sleep, these works!" She pulled out milk and butter from the fridge, and put the kettle on the stove to boil some water to make the thick, gloopy mixture. After adding two tablespoons of butter and a cup of milk, she looked around the kitchen, wondering what she could do to curb her sleeplessness. Her noise wrinkled in part disdain, part horror as she realised the only thing she could do: _laundry_.

"Oh well, " Rory said, forcing herself to feel a little bit more cheerful. "If it helps you fall asleep, it helps you fall asleep." She walked into the box-sized laundry, and began sorting the various clothes and bed linen into whites, lights and darks. She was just about to grab the heaped pile of lights and place them into the washing machine, when the kettle began to whistle – loudly.

"Oh no! Mum!" she cried. She made a mad dash out to the kitchen, but it was too late. She heard the heavy footsteps coming down the stairs – Lorelai was awake, whether she liked it, or not.

"Rory, what are you doing up at…" she paused, checking the time on the microwave clock. "… Four in the morning?"  
"I couldn't sleep. I was too hot. I got a glass of water from the fridge, but that didn't help, so I decided to do a little around the house. She grabbed the kettle and poured it into the microwave bowl, before grabbing a sheet of paper towel and placing it over the top, and sticking the bowl into the microwave. That done, she disappeared into the laundry and began loading the machine up with the dirty washing. She grabbed the box of washing powder from the shelf above, and scooped some out, watching it slowly pour from the scoop and into the machine. She set the load for full cycle, and then went back into the kitchen. By this time, Lorelai was sitting at the table and reading what Luke called 'the trashy magazine that captures the entire female population of America above the age of twenty-five.'

"Speaking of crazy things people do at ungodly hours of the morning," Rory teased, "why are you reading _US_ magazine so early?"

"With you doing an early morning spring clean, do you think I'm going to be getting any more sleep?" Lorelai asked her daughter. "Because if the noise that kettle made is anything to go by, I'm not going to be getting any more than four hours of sleep for the rest of the week!"

"I'm not that bad!" Rory protested over the noise of the churning washing machine. Lorelai threw the dirty dishcloth lying on the table at her daughter.  
"You want to be helpful? Go make some coffee, Brain Box," she said, turning back to her magazine. She glanced up again. "_Vite, vite_!" she cried out in French.  
"Since when have you been able to speak French?" Rory questioned, pulling herself up from her chair.

"Since ninth grade, when I did the wacky and decided to take a French class at school."  
"Oh."

* * *

"Ugh," was Rory's only comment as she slammed her head against the locker that was next to Paris'.  
"'Ugh' is right," said Madeline, appearing out of nowhere and causing Rory pull her head back quickly from the locker due to fright. "Just _look_ at what that girl in the beauty shop did to my eyebrows. Look!" she cried, a little over dramatically.  
"If I were you, I would be wearing a paper bag over my head right about now," Louise said seriously. She turned around and squinted at Rory. "And that comment goes for you too. Those bags under your eyes? They're just…" she wrinkled her nose as she tried to find a suitable comment to describe the bags under Rory's eyes. "_Ew_."

"I couldn't sleep last night, hence the bags," Rory muttered, picking her bag up off the floor.

"Oh. Well. In other news," Louise continued in a chipper voice, "A senior is throwing a party, and _all _the juniors and the seniors will be there."  
"How… exciting," Paris said in a deadpan voice, finally joining in the conversation. "It's a pity all the guys at this school have an IQ less than a fruit flies, otherwise I might've actually been interested. So, instead, I'm going off to a meeting for the _Franklin_. Rory, are you coming?"  
"Uh, yeah. OK." Paris grabbed Rory's wrist and dragged her towards the room where the meetings for the school newspaper were always held.

"You're not actually planning on going with those two to that party, are you?" Paris asked when they sat down at the end of the tables. "Because, you know what happened _last_ time you and He-whose-name-cannot-be-mentioned were at a party together, right? Total disaster."

"Who said _He_ was going?" Rory demanded.  
"Since when does _He_ not go to events like that? He's considered to be King of this whole school!"  
"Right," Rory replied. "I forgot about that part."  
"Well, you didn't answer my question," Paris bulldozed on. "Are you going to that… social gathering _thing_ where people are bound to get drunk even though they're underage, sleep with one another, and then wake up in the morning with splitting headaches and wondering who the hell they're lying next to?"  
"Thankyou for the graphic description. I'll think about it."  
"Well, just take what I said into account," Paris told her. "Because, it's all true."  
"I'll take your word for it."

* * *

"Could you please get her off my back?" were the first words out of Rory's mouth when she met Madeline and Louise in the cafeteria. "I've had to sit with her through the newspaper meeting, through double English, through History _and_ through Science… and the whole time she's been going on about how the only thing that happens at parties is how students get drunk and sleep with one another. I think I have her ten minute speech pretty much memorised."  
"Hey, I'm the one that got in trouble because I was trying to remind you what happened at that party you threw when you first arrived at Chilton. I'm just trying to be a good friend, Rory," Paris said, arriving in time to hear the last sentence and a half out of Rory's mouth. Madeline and Louise glanced at one another. Louise grabbed Paris' arm, and Madeline linked arms with Rory.  
"Come along, Paris. We're going to go let Rory have sane time with normal people, now. Let's just try to keep you out of trouble, OK?" Louise said, dragging Paris off in the direction of the courtyard.

"What does she mean by… normal people?" Rory asked Madeline, a little hesitantly.  
"Oh, nothing _bad_ by it," Madeline promised, although with Madeline, you can never tell what really is normal and what she considers to be normal, but the rest of the population thinks is just a tad on the kooky side. "It's just the group of people Louise and I hang out with when we're not tagging along with you and Paris." Rory allowed herself to be pulled across the cafeteria towards where the people who were considered to be 'cool' and 'popular' sat. Then she spotted _him_. And turned around, ready to follow Louise and Paris' lead, and make for the courtyard.

"Oh no, you don't," Madeline said, grabbing Rory and turning her around, pushing her towards the table. "You are going to sit with my friends and I, and ignore him, for the rest of the lunch hour. Then, you are going to head to whatever class you have after lunch, before heading home on the bus – and _not_ agreeing to coerce you into him taking you home if he is courteous enough to offer – and _then_ you're going to follow whatever afternoon routine it is you have when you get home from school and not give him a single thought," she finished, finally allowing herself to draw a breath.  
"OK," Rory said, taking a few seconds to process everything that had come out of Madeline's mouth in the one and a half minutes that she had been giving out the instructions to Rory. "I can do that. I think." _Not._

"Good," Madeline said, forcing her to sit in a seat between Alisa Campbell and Rebekah Grahame. The two girls smiled at her, before turning back to their conversation – something that involved a lot of giggling and whispering. Rory began to play with the mystery meat that the lunch lady had served her, and automatically smiling when anyone said 'Hello' to her.  
"So, Rory, what brings you to our little corner of the cafeteria?" Alisa asked.  
"Madeline asked me to sit with her today, only…" Rory trailed off, searching around the crowded area for her. "… I have no idea where she went."

"Oh, she's probably with whichever guy she's dating," said Rebekah, putting the word 'dating' into inverted commas.  
"More like whatever guy she's making out with this week!" giggled Keira, picking up a bottle of Evian and lifting it to her lips.  
"She's a bit of a skank," Alisa continued, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "But she's a _nice_ skank." The table erupted into laughter.  
"So, which guy is she supposed to be dating this week?" Rory asked, a little nervously.

"Oh," Keira said vaguely. "I think it's supposed to be… uhm, Tristan. Why did you want to know?" she inquired, beginning to munch on a nectarine.  
"Well, Louise is trying to set me up with somebody, I think, but she said to steer clear of whoever Madeline has been dating," Rory lied smoothly, but feeling the anger begin to boil up inside of her. _No wonder she wanted me to stay away from him!_ she thought furiously.  
"Yup, Louise is right," a red headed girl in the corner grinned cheekily at her. "If you ever dated one of Madeline's cast-offs, she'd be making sure you wished you'd never been born in no time. She can be a bitch like that, sometimes." _Too right. It's a pity that I can too!_

A/N: If you're going to review, please be constructive. Especially when flaming. I like to know _why_ you hated it. Going 'That sucked, you're a terrible writer… why don't you go drown in a whole, F--k you' does NOT count as constructive. I also like to know what I did right in a chapter, so REVIEW and I'll give you a plate of chocolate chip biscuits and a glass of milk.


	7. Situations

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
A/N: I have NOT had this chapter Beta'd, nor chapter 6 as I wanted to get these two chapters up TODAY, because it has been so long since I updated (and they're _long_ chapters, too. Compared to my other ones, anyway). So if you review, please be nice. And if you flame, be constructive.

Situations

* * *

Rory felt a wave of relief when the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. There was the scurrying sounds of movement as everyone began to get up from their tables, stick the trays away and began to head out into the hallways towards their classrooms. Rory joined the horde of people blocking up the doorway, feeling as though the walks were about to come crashing down at the size of the stampede rushing down the hallways in an attempt to get to class before their teacher so the word 'late' would not be written in red ink next to their name and would not receive punishment as a result. Cleaning blackboard dusters à la elementary school was not the best way to spend an afternoon. Rory took her normal seat in her Legal Studies classroom, rummaging through her bag to find a blue pen that would actually work, and her notebook that was filled with quickly scribbled notes and the occasional drawing done when Mr Hammond's lectures began to get more tedious than usual. Paris stalked into the classroom, took the seat next to Rory, and glared at her.  
"I had to spend the whole of lunch listening to Louise talk about her _fake tan_. Then, when she got bored of that, she moved on to bitching about various girls in the year, and then when that got a bit old, she changed the topic of conversation to her social life, and all the parties she is invited to for the next _three weeks_. Including, that senior's party. Of course, the _entire_ of year eleven and twelve is invited, so that's not exactly something special to talk about, so I got to hear about Christie's, and Abby's, and Jennyfer's, and Alisa's, and Erica's and just about every single _other_ girl in junior year!" Paris fumed, yanking a pen and her notebook out of her bag. "And it was _boring_. _Incredibly_ boring."  
"Quiet, please," Mr Hammond said, walking into the classroom balancing a folder, a suitcase and a thermos of hot coffee. "Today, I want you to work on your team projects, as well as beginning to research the different legal systems in other countries. For example, how does the legal system in England differ from ours? I want you to write a three-page essay on it for homework, and…" the rest of his sentence was drowned out by the loud groans emitted from his class.  
"SILENCE!" roared Mr Hammond. "You are in year eleven now. Get used to the difference in workload. Now, as I was saying…"

* * *

Rory walked quickly from the main school building, hurrying to get to the bus stop, in case she bumped into Tristan. Which she couldn't handle, especially if he was going to be with Madeline. Apparently Fate had another idea, because It sent him hurtling straight into her.  
"Oh, sorry Mary," he smirked, pulling himself off the ground and holding out a hand to help her up. Which she ignored of course, because at the moment she was irritated with him. Which was partly why she snorted at him.  
"No, you're not. So do the whole world a favour and stop pretending to _be_ things that you're not, because the only person that you're fooling is yourself," she replied, glaring at him. "Now, if you _don't_ mind, I have a bus to catch."

"How about I give you a lift home, instead?" he offered.  
"How about no?" replied Rory, heading towards the school gates.  
"How about yes?"

"How about you take Madeline home instead? I'm sure _she'll _appreciate a whole lot more than I do," Rory snapped at him, rolling her eyes. "I told you I have a bus to catch, and no matter how many times you ask, I'm _not_ going home with you!"

* * *

"I don't care!" Michel yelled, and began to mutter in French under his breath.  
"Michel, what have I told you about swearing in French around the children?" Lorelai asked, popping up from behind the counter. The kitchen doors swung open and Sookie came out.  
"I just want a quick opinion!" Sookie begged.

"It took me two seconds to tell you I don't care, that's as quick as I get," Michel said, stamping up the stairs.  
"Michel, where are you going?" Lorelei yelled.  
"As far away from Sookie as I can get!" came the muffled response. Rory laughed and headed over to the counter where Lorelei was rolling her eyes and making notes in some kind of book.  
"Hi, Mum," Rory greeted her. "What's going on?"

"We're opening in two weeks. Needless to say, everyone is going crazy."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah. Why did you come from school to the Inn?" Lorelei asked, ducking under the counter again and beginning to search the shelves for something.  
"Because I wanted to ask you something."  
"I would've been home in an hour or so," Lorelei called up. "Couldn't it have waited until then?"  
"Well. I was just curious. Besides, once this is done, I can help with the whole… process of making sure this place looks perfect for the opening night." Lorelei stood up again, this time with a stack of blank invitations in hand.  
"OK then. Shoot."

"Well, this is all hypothetical of course. OK, not really _hypothetical_, but it was kind of important to a friend of mine who was curious about my opinion, which I gave, only then she _still_ wasn't sure, so I thought it would be best to ask a responsible and mature adult my opinion. So, just keep in mind that this _isn't_ about me, and that you _shouldn't _get too excited about it when I ask. OK?" Rory asked, pretty sure that the bases were covered so she shouldn't be arousing suspicion. Not that Lorelei would tell anybody; it's just that she didn't think that her grandparents would be too happy if her mum did let anything accidentally slip.

"Oh…kay…" Lorelei said. "You have my Girl's Scout Honour that I solemnly swear I will keep in mind that this is not about you," she continued, slowly.  
"Good. Now. This _friend_ of mine happens to like somebody, and she _thinks_ that this somebody happens to also like her. _Only_. His grandparents have a grudge with her grandparents and vice versa, and she's not sure that if she goes out with him that her grandparents will approve, and she's not sure how her mother… and father will take it if she agrees to go out with him in the first place. _Plus_ he has a girlfriend, but according to rumours that's only temporary and the only reason he is going out with his girlfriend _is_ because he's trying to distract himself from liking my friend because _she_ keeps on refusing go out with _him_ because she's not how her family will react to the situation." Rory finally drew in a breath, while Lorelei stared at her, looking slightly puzzled as she began to process all the information Rory fed to her in about thirty seconds.  
"Well… she should wait until the guy's broken up with his girlfriend first. Temporary or not, he agreed to go out with her, and he has to stick to that. Secondly, who cares what anybody else thinks? If we all lived by the rules, we wouldn't get anywhere in life. Tell your friend to live a little, she might be amazed what happens. Now that I've solved that problem, here's the invitations, a pen and the guest list, go ahead and invite away!" Lorelei finished, shooing her with her hands. Rory took everything from her mother and walked away with a smile on her face. _Live a little. OK. _


	8. A Teardrop Hittin' the Ground

**Author's Note:** Huh, once again, I fail to update for about six months. Oopsies. Well, here it is -unbeta'd, because I didn't want to delay it any more than it had been. Enjoy.  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Really.

A Teardrop Hitting the Ground  


**Home **hohm (_n)_ – the place in which one's domestic affections are centred. Rory flicked the page of the dictionary; frustrated that the word she was trying to define – homologous – appeared to be non-existent in the world of dictionaries. At least, not any that had in her home – and being a Gilmore, she had several. She threw the dictionary behind her in a direction that she hoped was towards her room, and pulled her Biology textbook towards her.

_The body has some natural barriers that help prevent the entry of the microscopic living things called microbes into the vital organs. Some of these defences are physical barriers... other defences provided by the body are chemical barriers. When microbes pass through the external defence barriers, the body's internal defence systems begin a highly organised attack on the invaders in an effort to destroy them. _Her eyes flicked across the bold black print on the stark white pages, and she began to feel tears form in the corners of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, and began to focus on the diagram of a person's body defending itself against microbes. **_Defence_**, she thought. _Resistance against attack_. _**Attack**. To try and destroy. **Destroy**. To put an end to. _

Destroy. The revelations that she had learnt of yesterday had definitely destroyed her social life, so to speak. Of the forty-five minutes she had between arriving at school and heading off to homeroom; the majority were spent in the library, searching for books to use for her English essay. The twenty minutes of homeroom had been spent discussing "Animal Farm" with the guy who had been re-christened as "The Guy who Whinges too Much" by Summer Roberts, nearly all of her classes were spent next to Paris; the rest were spent alone in the back corner, and she had caught the late bus home in an attempt to avoid both Madeline and Tristan.

As Rory pushed herself away from the table and headed towards her room, she couldn't help but feel that her trust and belief in her friends had already been destroyed; and it was just too little, too late in their attempt to fix it.

* * *

Madeline gripped the flimsy, rough cardboard tray tightly. Although she found it rather ridiculous that she was trying to find support from an abiotic object, she felt her arms shaking; and much to her surprise, her knuckles were beginning to turn white from her iron grip on the tray. She loosened her grip, before making her way towards Rory's locker. As her black leather shoes hit the shiny white lino floor, she began to curse Keira, Rebekah and Alisa. She began to plot ways of torturing them, which soon morphed into ways of killing them. If they hadn't opened their mouths – and according to Summer Roberts, Prom Queen; Queen Bee; backstabbing bitch, they had – she wouldn't be feeling as small as a mouse and wishing that she would never have to face Rory Gilmore ever again.

"Madeline. You've gone through worse than this before. Your parent's divorcing; your best friend moving to England. This? This is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Admitting to a person that you've lied... despite lying by omission, is nothing," she told herself quietly. "So, just... suck it up." This little pep talk didn't make her feel better, however. If anything, it only made her feel worse.

"Rory." Her voice was so soft it was inaudible; and judging by the lack of reaction, the person she was talking to hadn't heard her. "Rory," she repeated, this time a little louder. Rory jumped, sending the thick textbook – Biology, Madeline noticed – crashing loudly to the ground.

"Oops," she murmured, flushing red and tucking back a stray piece of hair as she bent down to pick it up. She slid the book in between her Chemistry textbook and the novel they were studying for English, and then turned towards Madeline. She did it slowly; causing Madeline to feel nervous again.

"H-h-hi, Rory." Madeline heard the break in her voice, and let out a string of curses at her weak-sounding voice. Her arms began to shake again; only little tremors, nothing really all that noticeable, and a pit in her stomach began to form, letting her know that she was nervous and apprehensive of the situation.

"Oh... hi, Madeline," Rory said vaguely with a small attempt at a smile. She turned back to the timetable stuck on the door of her locker, and ran a finger down the coloured list of subjects for the day. She began to pull out the textbooks and exercise books she required for the first three periods. "What... what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, her cheerful voice sounding forced.

"Um..." Madeline looked down at the tray of coffee in her hand, trying to think of something to say to Rory. She pulled a paper cup from the group and offered it to Rory. "Would you like some coffee?" Rory gave her another small smile and accepted the cup. "I know you know about..." her voice trailed off, and she struggled to work up the courage to continue pursuing the subject.

"Yeah..." Rory commented absently, before shrugging. "But uh... it's no big deal, right? I mean, you'll break up eventually... just another teen love story? Incredibly fickle?" The pit in Madeline's stomach grew.  
"Yeah..." she repeated Rory's words reluctantly. "It's just another teen love story. Incredibly fickle."

"And... I mean... it's not as if we're best friends, or as if I was going out with him, or anything..." Rory continued as if Madeline hadn't said anything and she was just trying to convince herself. "So, really. It's no big deal." Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang, signaling the beginning of homeroom. "Well... it's off to homeroom we go," she added with a nervous laugh. "I think Paris wanted to talk to me about something, so..." Madeline nodded, as Rory grabbed her books, slammed her locker door, and wandered down the hall into the throng of students.

_Nope... it's no big deal at all.

* * *

Paris flicked the page over, immersed in __Pride and Prejudice_; a book she had read at least twenty times since she was ten, however eight years on she still could not help but admire Elizabeth Bennett's stance against and rejection of Fitwilliam Darcy, a feat that rarely happened in the 1800s due to the lack of control women had over their lives. _We were run by men in the Medieval times, and all throughout history, and despite the rights and freedoms of women everywhere that have been acknowledged, we still are. In the Middle East, they have it even worse,_ Paris thought, her eyes skimming over Lizzy's tirade of Lydia's foolishness.

"I hate _him_, I hate _her_, and I hope that they produce the Spawn of Satan together, in all their evil glory and splendour!" Rory snapped at her, marching in to homeroom with her books resting against one hip and her tote bag slung over her shoulders; the strap of which was being strangled by Rory's right hand. Paris folded the page and closed the book with a sigh, and glanced up at her best – and possibly only, for Madeline and Louise provided little company and intelligent thought – friend, already putting together a logical explanation for Rory's not-so-logical sentence – _him_ was Tristan, a.k.a 'Bible Boy,' and also previously known as 'Spawn of Satan,' but apparently this name would no longer stick. _Her_ was Madeline, Rory's 'guide' and 'shoulder to lean on.' Not anymore, apparently.

"... In all their evil glory and splendour?" Paris finally managed, weakly. It was eight-thirty in the morning; way too early to deal with an angry and decaffeinated Rory Gilmore. And who also could be suffering from serious PMT issues, Paris wasn't sure. _Jealousy, thy name is Rory_, Paris couldn't help but think.

"Yes, in all their evil glory and splendour. _Which means_, that, _he_ may be King of Chilton, and _she_ may be on her way to overthrowing the Queen, and _they_ may be so popular they have friends coming out of where the sun don't shine, but _I_ still condemn them to a lifetime of misery and gluttony – meaning it in the mortal sin sense, of course – and they can go jump off the Brooklyn Bridge for all I care. Which is zilch, nada, nothing. _Zero_." She finished her rant and sat down at the table next to Paris; digging through her bag in order for her to find solace in a book.

"Is... that... _all_?" Paris inquired. She knew it meant horrible outcomes. She knew it meant the next twenty minutes would be filled with constant screeches and not-so-kind comments. But even for a Gilmore that had had no coffee in the morning, and judging by the shadows under her eyes, little sleep, that was an _incredibly_ short rant. _Should be entered into the Guinness World Book of Records_, mused Paris.

Rory turned in her seat, an evil glint in her eye and a wicked smile on her face. "Well, no," she admitted, "But I know that you hate listening to my hour-long rants, so I thought that I would be comforted by my book, while thinking up ways to kill them both." Paris raised an eyebrow, and sighed again.

"Oh, why don't you tell me. I know you want to," she muttered reluctantly, and stuck _Pride and Prejudice_ back into her teal-coloured backpack, wedged in between a biography of Nelson Mandela, some textbooks and a three-hundred page notebook.

"I met Madeline in the hall this morning. She offered me coffee, and _I know_ you're thinking that I should've accepted it; that way I would have been a much more easier person to deal with and provide solutions to my very annoying and frustrating problem. _But_, I did accept it. I just threw it in the rubbish bin, without drinking it, on my way to homeroom," she concluded sheepishly. Paris stared at her. _Would around about _now_ be a good time to announce to the world that Rory Gilmore is trying to kill me?_ She wondered.

"And your point is...?" Paris trailed off, waiting for Rory to fill in the gaps.

"Okay... I have spent a _whole week _avoiding them, and then she just wanders up to me with a couple of coffees to go from Gloria Jean's, and begins talking to me like _nothing happened_. And _then_ we finally got around to talking about the whole... _thing_, and she's just like... blerk." Paris groaned inwardly, wishing she had never instigated this whole thing.

"What did she say?" she asked with a sigh. Rory slid the purple bookmark in between the open pages and then let the book close with a soft _bang_, and then began a rendition of her earlier conversation with Madeline.

"She goes, 'Well, I know you know about...' and then she just kind of... trailed off, and I'm like 'So I guess I'm supposed to fill in the blanks,' and so then I'm like 'Ye-eah,' and it was all really awkward, and so then I just began prattling on and on and on..."

"Like you are now?" Paris interjected, mock-innocently with a puppy-dog expression on her face. Rory glared at her, before beginning to speak again as if there had been no interruption.

"And then she's like... 'So about my thing...' and then -"

"Wait, what _is_ her thing?" Paris asked; figuring that because she had to sit through this ordeal, she may as well demand an answer to a question that she already knew, simply for entertainment value. Rory glared at her once again.

"You _know_ what her _thing_ is..." Rory's voice trailed off to a nearly inaudible whisper, "... that _thing_ with _You-Know-Who_." Paris rolled her eyes, thinking that this had gotten to the near-ridiculous boundaries. If Rory crossed the line, Paris was checking her in to the mental ward at the hospital across the road.

"Oh-kay..." Paris tried to think of something to tack on to the end of this statement, but her mind came up blank. Rory looked at her expectantly. "Uhm... continue?" Paris finally uttered.

"You... do know what I'm talking about, right?" she asked, a little uncertain from the lack of response from Paris.

"Yes!" Paris near-screeched. "Hello! How could I _not_? You've been talking about it for the past week, non-stop! Everytime I see you it's 'Madeline' this, or 'Tristan' that! I have never, ever, _ever_ met _anybody_ as obsessed with him as you are! _Ever_! And, speaking of which..."

Rory chose this precise moment to tune out to Paris' rant, feeling slightly put-off but this sudden angry outburst. _Is Paris right? Have I been that obsessed with this whole... affair, that my entire life has begun to revolve around it? _she wondered, beginning to feel more than a little sheepish. _No... I couldn't! That would just be so... out of character for me, _she decided, feeling that it her reaction to the whole stupid mess was justified by the fact that guys without mental handicaps don't do what _he _did. _Besides, _a little voice in her head declared, _you _distinctly_ heard Madeline say that this whole relationship was no big deal. Or words to that effect. Several times in the conversation, as a matter of fact. I would go so far as to say that the entire conversation was about the whole relationship was no big deal, and that there was nothing for you to worry about, because, hey, in about three days, he'll move onto somebody _else_, and you can start obsessing over _that Rory scowled. _Great, even my conscience is making fun of me, _she thought, banging her head on the table; and as a result she received many strange looks from the people around her, who began to edge their desks away from hers.

Paris, who had, by now, returned to _Pride and Prejudice_, glanced up from her book and shifted her gaze to Rory. "Gilmore?" she said, her voice taking on her usual authorative, bossy tone. Rory, mid-way through another 'head goes down' motion, turned to stare at her; head hovering centimetres from her desk.

"Ye-eah...?" she asked a little suspiciously, and somewhat embarassed; finally registering the looks of those seated around her.

"Skip the home route this afternoon, you're heading straight to the mental ward at the hospital instead," Paris advised. "You need serious, professional help that only those with the degrees, implements and patience can give." Rory's head continued its previous journey; three seconds later making contact with the hard, wooden table top.

"Ow," she muttered in a muffled voice. "That hurt." Paris did what Paris did best, and that was to roll her eyes in response.

* * *

" Complete, total, utter annihilation," pronounced Louise gleefully. "I'll be glad to offer my services. When do I start?" Louise had been brought up in Hartford, the little land of the socialites who only cared about when their next business appointment/beauty appointment/date where they crushed their enemies was, so it came as no surprise to Rory and Paris that she had no problems ruining the life of her best friend through playing spy.

Paris glanced up at her. "How about now? You have Spanish with her, don't you?" she snapped impatiently. Rory smiled apprehensively at Louise; pressing her lips together.

"Oh, yeah. Best be off then," came the cheerful reply, accompanied by a royal handwave. Louise headed down the hallways, packed with students making their way to fourth period classes. _Madeline, Madeline, what will we do? Ruining somebody else's life is really no good for you. _She turned into B14, and took her usual place, back row, centre chair; impatiently tapping her pencil against her binder folder as she waited for her 'friend' to arrive. _You really shouldn't be doing this, you know. Backstabbing? Detrimental to friendships, _chided a voice in her head. Louise shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and began to tap the pencil against her shoe. _In fact, you're no better than Madeline. You're both backstabbing people who are supposed to be your friends, _the voice continued.

"Hi Madeline," she smiled at her friend as Madeline slid into the seat next to her. "So, I heard about the confrontation with Rory this morning," she continued, gritting her teeth as her conscience continued to tell her that what she was doing was wrong. _Going into Paris-territory here._

"It wasn't really a _confrontation_," Madeline protested. "It was more of an 'I'm really so sorry about what I did, it was so stupid, and I have something really important to tell you, but I probably won't' kind of thing." Louise had begun to crack open her textbook, but looked up, incredibly intrigued, at Madeline's idle comment.

"Something important, huh?" she grinned. "So, did you get around to telling her what the 'important thing' was?" Louise asked, already knowing the answer.

"No. But... can I tell you?" Madeline asked. Louise's eyes lighted up, and she nodded. _One very important piece of information, going straight to my cohorts. _Madeline leant over, and whispered something in Louise's ear. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Madeline, horrified, distressed and clearly upset, hoping that this was all one big, terrible joke. It wasn't.

_There is no way I can tell this... to anybody._

**A/N: **Cliffhanger. Huh. Better update quickly then :) Click the little purple button, at the bottom of the page, and tell me what you think!


	9. The Phrase That Pays

**Title**: Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?

**Character(s)**: Louise, Madeline, Tristan, Rory.

**Summary**: It's 'Romeo & Juliet,' Gilmore Girls style.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Romeo and Juliet," it belongs to William Shakespeare, I just borrowed the idea.  
I also don't own Gilmore Girls. I just liked playing around with the characters.

**Author's Notes**: A chapter that has been long overdue; but has constantly been put off from writer's block, studying for exams, and sheer laziness. Thanks to my Beta, LoVe23. The title comes from the song "The Phrase That Pays" by The Academy Is...

"The Phrase That Pays."

There were two things in this world that Louise hated. Perhaps a few more - the usual ones, such as racism ('Racism is not born, it is taught'), and prejudice against those who are gay, or bisexual ('It could just have easily been us who were surrounded in prejudice for being straight'). For now, there are only two that could be applied to her current predicament. The first object of her hatred was lying and keeping secrets from others - namely, her friends. As part of the 'in crowd', it was her job to spread secrets and release rumors. She had grown up within a society where you kept your enemies close but your friends closer, and as a result it was a near impossibility for her to not send around whispers.

While she wouldn't have wanted any secrets about her to be spread - as a matter of fact, she would have been absolutely mortified if they had - it had become a habit for her to automatically pass on a bit of information or gossip about others to her friends. Louise simply found it difficult to disguise emotions and hide bits of information from those willing to take it. She lived by the rule "honesty is the best policy," despite being perceived by others as brutal and downright cruel at times.

Her second pet peeve was backstabbing those who are your friends. In this retrospect, she considered herself to be a hypocrite. She couldn't simply stand by and watch as the Queen of Chilton, Summer Roberts, attacked those she had the audacity to call her friends, but Louise was quite willing to be indecent and cruel to those who had the slightest link to her.

Announce to the world that it was because she had grown up in Hartford; the place in society where there is a motto 'Always ensure you have the upper hand and come out triumphant.' Call it what you like, package it how you wish, Louise was a hypocrite and more than a little vain. Although, she wouldn't dream of starting a rumor about Rory Gilmore – 'Mary Magdalene,' bookworm, teacher's pet, quite possibly the most down-to-earth person on the entire planet, who had never had a hang-up about anything until now.

She wouldn't even think about spreading one of Paris Gellar's secrets - although, that might have something to do with the fact that Paris would skin her alive, and then hang Louise above her kitchen bench to dry. Not even when Paris made sarcastic comments and dry, witty remarks about Louise's personality.

Louise was quite aware of the fact she had been willing to break Madeline's trust, remove all respect Madeline had ever held for Louise, and destroy whatever remainders were left of the confident, happy-go-lucky girl. The one who existed before Lorelei Lorraine Gilmore III had entered Chilton's pristine picture.

_No_, she told herself. _It's unfair to blame Rory for all of this mess. Really, it's partly Madeline's, partly Tristan's, and partly mine. If I had paid just a little more attention to my friends, and a little less about what celebrity was caught wearing which ugly tracksuit minus make-up and a decent hairstyle, then I could've stopped this all from happening. Because, really, Madeline had turned to Tristan for attention…support - however temporary. _

Louise and Madeline had a love-hate relationship. Some days they were the best of friends, and would gossip over anything and everything. Other days, they were willing to cause serious damage to the other's self-esteem levels, and couldn't stand the sight of one another.

Today started off belonging in the latter category, but now it most certainly belonged in the former. This now poses a problem for Louise…a big problem. She knew she couldn't keep the secrets of one friend…not without backstabbing another.

She could side with Paris and Rory and take the liberty of bringing down Madeline. She could agree with Madeline's opinions, keep Madeline's secret from Rory and Paris, and refused to help the duo. Another option was that she could simply state to both parties, that she couldn't be involved due to the conflicting emotions and loyalties to each. None were really an option cause any way you looked at it, Louise would come off looking like a liar and a bitch.

She had preached these values, and then she had broken them.

_I tried, and I failed. I'm sorry_.

Madeline didn't just like attention, she_ loved _it. She basked in it...she believed it was what made the world go 'round. She adored it when she knew that every single pair of eyes in the room was on her, and it was all for good reasons. It made her smile when people complimented her; flattered her.

When people copied her, she was happy. When her parents acknowledged her existence, she was ecstatic…although, probably more than she should be. Sometimes, in order to receive some attention, when no PR had come her way for a couple of days, she would go out and do something that would portray 'wild, rebellious behavior' (her mother's words, not hers).

Madeline had agreed to go out with Tristan shortly after Rory's 'Welcome to Chilton' party, that had been thrown by Rory's grandparents. Madeline had known that for Tristan, she was simply a consolation prize. It wasn't particularly nice to think of herself in such terms, but it was true. Madeline had realized this, but she had agreed to go out with him, for it meant that she would have gotten some attention. More than she had gotten in months. She had been proven right by the reactions of those who knew - not that there were many, for most people believed that Tristan was whipped by the new girl who never paid any attention to him, whatsoever.

Take Summer Roberts, for example. She had been dumped by Tristan, so she wouldn't have the upper hand over him, after being asked out by Logan Huntzberger…and agreeing to dinner and a movie. She believed that Tristan asking out Madeline was a way of proving that he was no longer hung up on her, despite the fact that he was the dumper, not the dumpee. Summer never really had been the sharpest knife in the drawer.

She and Madeline were now no longer friends, because Summer viewed Madeline accepting Tristan's offer as a betrayal (on a side note, Logan broke up with Summer three days after their first date, and they no longer talk).

Finn thought that Tristan asking out Madeline was a way of showing the population of Chilton that he no longer cared one whit for Sienna Pierce, the girl who was currently studying in France. This was true, Tristan had gotten over her departure soon after the news. He also didn't care for 'that lower-class, prude scholarship girl'. This part of course was a lie…all of it. Not only did he care for her, but he also knew she wasn't on scholarship – the Gilmore's paid her tuition. Finn also thought that Madeline would only last a week with Tristan, if she was lucky. He was currently running a pool to see how long the two would last. (Madeline knew that he had bet a week, and so far they had lasted about four months. She knew that he would be losing quite a bit of money on this one).

Then there was Rory. Rory was one of the few outside the 'in crowd' who knew about the relationship. Paris was another. Rory was trying her best to save face and pretend that she didn't really mind; didn't really care. It was in Rory's personality to walk up to Madeline, and wish her well (to be honest, that just made Madeline feel even more guilty).

Deep down, Madeline knew that Rory viewed this as a betrayal. She was deeply hurt and cut up inside. When Rory found out about this news, she'd feel totally betrayed, and probably never speak to Madeline again (probably more to do with the fact that Madeline kept it from her, than anything).

From this wondrous experience of being Tristan's 'girlfriend' (the term was coined rather loosely, in this relationship), Madeline had learned that not all attention is good, and some kinds of attention can be quite damaging. She wished that she could take back her actions of the past few months, but she couldn't. She had made her bed, and now she had to lie in it.

If there was just one thing that she could say to Rory, it would be this:

_I never meant to hurt you and be such a bad friend. I'm sorry. I really, truly am. But I'm trying to fix all that. _

Tristan doesn't like not being in control of a situation. That is why he despises his mother's alcoholism; it's why he doesn't talk to his father, who is barely ever home anyway. It's why he has very little to do with his grandfather, who, like Tristan, wishes to be in control of anything and everything. It is why he feels so confused at the moment.

Madeline explained the situation to him over the phone. She dropped possibly the biggest bombshell in a way she wouldn't have to look at him while she spoke. She wouldn't have to watch the emotions flitting across his face as he struggled to comprehend what she was saying. This way, she was able to disguise her emotions and hide her feelings from him.

Tristan felt panic, and shock. He was scared, and excited at the same time. He felt the circumstances, in which he was being told was undignified, and he could feel a pit in his stomach form as she spoke. He was both angry and happy as he listened to her words fill up the silences in the room, feeling like wanted to hurl the phone across the room and watch it shatter against a wall; shatter into a million pieces. And just when he had decided to do the right thing; to stick by Madeline, she chose to drop another bombshell:

"I do want this baby. I just don't want you."

And then all that was left in his ear was a constant, buzzing dial tone that made him feel even more frustrated than ever. As he hung up on the noise, and was greeted with the empty silence of his bedroom, he could only think one thing:

_I'm sorry you can't trust me enough to be in my life anymore. _

_I'm sorry I screwed up any chance I had of being with her. _

If there was one thing that Rory knew, it was that she was unjustifiably and irrevocably in love with Tristan. She wasn't quite sure why, because he annoyed her so much. So as she trudges home from the bus stop, she thinks about the day's events. About the ones involving Madeline. The ones involving Louise. The ones involving Tristan…and the ones involving Paris. By the time she arrives home, she has come to one conclusion: that she had to let him go.

Because when you love somebody, your only wish is for them to have whatever they wanted. In Tristan's case, that was Madeline.

_I'm sorry I'm not going to fight for you, but I just want you to be happy_.


End file.
